


Four Times Before the First Time

by slantedsunlight



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones - Freeform, F/M, Fanfic about a tv show about the Archie comics, I am CW trash, I'm 27 and spent my entire work day in an office writing smut, I'm not sorry, Jughead Jones/ Betty Cooper, PWP, Plot What Plot, Protect Jughead Jones he is precious and snarky and my baby, So I hope you enjoy this, These two beautiful sleuths, bughead - Freeform, teenage sex, this is basically just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slantedsunlight/pseuds/slantedsunlight
Summary: Betty and Judghead's first kiss leads her to a stroke of inspiration, but was that a fluke, or a very specific super power? There's only one way to find out.AKA four increasingly steamy moments between Betty and Jughead and then gratification for everyone.- Compliant through ep. 6 -





	

  
**ONE**  

Every summer since she was four, Betty Cooper had swum in the river that bisected their town, slender and swift as a fish. Swinging off ropes and diving from rocks, she was fearless, the water welcoming and familiar as a friend. Her favorite part was always that first moment - the shock of jumping in, the current tugging her along, and then the rush of freedom, bubbles licking up her body as she rose to the surface.  

Kissing Jughead, his hands cradling her face, mouth pressed firmly to hers in her childhood bedroom, was just like that. His nervousness made sense now, the way his voice had caught moments before, and she smiled as they parted. The endorphin rush through her teenage brain made her dizzy. Derailed from all her previous worries, her thoughts parted like mist, and in the floaty moment of post-kiss blankness, something clicked into place: _the car!_

The fond, exasperated look Juggie gave her was warming, even in her distraction.

“Wow. _That's_ what you’re thinking about in the middle of our moment?” he teased, but there was no real bite to his words.

When she spiraled off into her explanation, he was right there with her. It felt good to be so unguarded with him, not acting the part of dutiful daughter, or carefree friend. She was just Betty, and he was Jughead, and their kiss changed none of that. They were still partners, working at the _Blue and Gold_ , and for the truth about Jason Blossom, and for Polly.

Jughead taking her hand as she reached the bottom of the ladder was as natural as Betty not letting go of his.

 

 **TWO**  

The discovery, and then destruction of the car had Betty in a state.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she said, once again pacing in her bedroom as Jughead calmly listened to her. At his look, she rolled her eyes. “I think this situation merits cursing. Don’t look at me like I’m a nun, Juggie. I get enough of that from my mother. SPEAKING of whom...”

She took another turn around the room, ranting about suspects, and who might have followed them, who could be spying on them _right now_  - when he reached out and caught her arm. She huffed a breath, but let him pull her to sit next to him on the bed.

“Breathe, Betts. I don’t think you’re quite at Tin Foil Hat levels of paranoia, but we can scan the room for bugs if it’ll make you feel better. You want me to prove I’m not wearing a wire? I could take my shirt off.”

He grinned slyly as she shoved him, laughing, and when he leaned back toward her he snuck a shy kiss to the corner of her mouth. Barely 48 hours had passed since The Kiss, but they’d been too busy living Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys to do more than hold hands. Recalling the last time they were alone in her room flushed Betty with heat, and she gave him an appraising look that made his stomach flip over.

“You know, it was you that inspired me about the car in the first place. Could be worth it to try that again,” she said.

“Ah yes, the old ‘Kiss Method’ of deduction. This is just like every time Sherlock Holmes made out with Watson to solve crimes.”

“Come on, Jug, I’m serious! I was so tangled in the details last week that it would have taken me forever to put it together, but you kissed me and  _voilà!_ I had it.”

“I can’t decide if this a weird kink or if you’re just using me for my inspiring lips. It’s like I’m Your Girl Friday.”

“Jughead, shut up,” Betty said, and kissed him.

For all his playful protest, Juggie immediately snuck an arm around her waist, pulling her almost into his lap. His other hand slid to cup her jaw delicately, but Betty wasn’t quite so gentle. She drew her nails up the back of his neck and under his beanie, feeling him shiver beneath her, and he deepened their kiss, tongue slipping into her mouth to taste her. Warmth flowed from her chest down between her legs and she pushed them back onto the bed, until she was on top of him.

It startled her slightly to realize she was straddling him, the force of _want_  rising up in her, and she drew back for a moment to look at Juggie in surprise. His smile was soft and unrushed, lips pink with kissing, but his eyes were measuring, a barometer for her feelings. It centered her, and she couldn’t help grinning back before lowering her head to kiss him again.

Several pleasant minutes passed, but making out didn’t seem to be striking Betty with inspiration this time. She found herself too lost in the drag of lips and the distracting heat of Jughead’s hand on her hip, increasingly too much and not enough for her at once. Without warning, she sat up again, still straddling him, and began to unbutton his shirt, not meeting the question she could feel in his gaze.

“Yeah, Betty?” he said after she passed the third button, his voice tinged with curiosity and amusement, although an octave lower than normal.

“Just making sure you’re not wearing a wire after all,” she said lightly. When she reached the last button she looked up at him again. Her face was set with certainty, but she bit her lip shyly, and it was that more than anything that made him slowly sit up and let her push the shirt off his shoulders.

Jughead knew he was no Archie Andrews, and for a fraction of a moment he questioned if this beautiful girl, who not-so-long-ago only had eyes for their redheaded friend, was perhaps settling for him.

But then Betty Cooper, the sweetest girl-next-door in a 50 mile radius, slid a warm hand down his chest and swallowed thickly before tilting close to lick a line up the side of his throat. At the same time, she ground her hips into his. Jughead might have blacked out for a minute. The next thing he knew, Betty was pulling her own shirt up and over her head.

“I’m not wearing a wire either,” she breathed. He couldn’t stop staring at her, in her simple polka dot bra, but just then a door slammed on the first floor of the Cooper’s house, and in seconds they had scrambled apart. Hastily, they struggled back into their clothes before Mrs. Cooper could come up to check on her daughter. Not willing to risk her wrath, Jughead pressed his mouth to Betty’s once more before scrambling out the window.

“Catch ya later, Murder She Kissed,” he whispered as she pushed the window closed.

 

**THREE**

The roar of the game was nearly deafening, and Jughead scowled as he watched the field for one blonde cheerleader in particular. Cheryl was leading the River Vixens in a lively routine, fake smile so sharp he was sure she would cut someone with it. Veronica was there on the left side, decidedly less enthused but going through the motions, while a spot to her right looked ominously empty. Turning to scan the crowd, he still didn’t see Betty, but if Veronica was here, he figured Betty must be too.

The second place he looked was the locker rooms. He stood poised at the entrance, struck by the potential disaster of entering the Girls-Only domain, when he heard a loud sniffle echo from within. He pushed through the doorway, past the empty shower stalls to the benches in the back, where a miserable ball of a girl was huddled, swiping beneath her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart. You wanna get out of here?” he asked.

Betty’s pretty face was puffy and smeared with mascara when she looked up. She sniffed again, nodding miserably, and stood. Juggie picked up her bag and slung a comforting arm across her shoulders as he led her to his car, letting her leak silent tears into his shirt as they walked, the sounds of the crowd fading behind them.

They drove through the darkening evening in companionable quiet, the clunky hum of his old car filling the silence as he gave her space to collect herself. His hand lay flat on the center console, close but not touching her; the option of comfort, when she wanted it. Even so, it was a while before Betty had calmed enough to tell him what happened.

“It’s my fault,” she said, voice still tremulous. “I was angry at my mom about Polly, and I took it out on Veronica. We had a fight.” She paused to blow her nose again.

“So that’s why she wasn’t looking too cheery at the game,” Jughead said in a stilted tone.

A beat passed, and then Betty was squinting at him through her teary lashes. “Did you just make a cheerleading pun?”

“I’m not good with crying girls, please help me,” he confessed in a rush, eyes still on the road.

Betty choked on a wet laugh and reached for his hand, smiling a little now, and he gratefully laced their fingers.

“I’m sorry about your mom, and Veronica,” he said. “Short of a really good therapist and a freighter full of xanax, I doubt there’s much that could help Mrs. Cooper - but I’m sure Ronnie will forgive you. You guys have fought and made up before.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Betty sighed. She pressed another glove-compartment napkin to her eyes and then looked around for the first time since they got in the car, only just noticing that they weren’t headed toward her house.

“Where are we going, Jug?”

“Well, unless you’d rather go home to dear old mom and dad, I figured you might like to get away for a bit.”

They were coming up on the St. Agnes trailhead by the river, where Jughead turned off, following signs toward day parking for hikers.

Betty eyed the dirt paths branching out at the front of the park, illuminated harshly in their headlights. “This is how the horror movies start,” she commented, but unbuckled her seatbelt with Jughead and got out.

“See, you’re already feeling more positive.”

Coming around the car, he wrapped her in a tight hug, feeling the tension slowly drain out of her as she hugged him back. After a minute, she drew away and offered him a real, if tired smile.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling his phone out of his pocket to use as a flashlight.

They followed the path down toward the river for a while, but when it snaked back up through the trees, Juggie led them off of it, helping her pick across a group of rough boulders in her pristine cheerleading sneakers. On the other side of the rocks, Betty was surprised to find a tiny cabin.

“What is this, a Disney movie?” she asked.

“Not enough singing for that,” he replied. “It’s a ranger’s cabin, but nobody uses it in the fall or winter.”

Reaching above the door frame, Jughead collected a brass key, grinning innocently as he used it to unlock the door. Inside was a small studio living space, with a gas burner and sink in one corner, a curtained-off shower and toilet in the other, and one cot across the far wall. The bed was neatly made, but there was a cup with a toothbrush in it by the sink, and a duffle bag with clothes spilling out of it by the foot of the bed.

“Oops,” Juggie said, shoving it back under the bed frame with his foot. An awkward silence followed as he glanced around for other potential messes, avoiding Betty’s eyes.

“Are you...living here?” she asked, trying her hardest to sound neutral.

“Uh, well I’m kind of between places at the moment, so I’ve been staying here while I figure something out. There’s a solar panel with enough power to charge my phone, the plumbing works - most of the time - and I don’t need a lot of space…” He trailed off, watching guardedly as Betty stepped closer and put her arms around his neck with a fond look.

“You don’t have to sell me the cabin, Jug. I’m just here for you.”

He relaxed, leaning his forehead against hers. “Sorry, I just know it’s...a bit unorthodox.”

“If by ‘unorthodox,’ you mean illegal,” she teased.

“Which I do.”  

“I won’t tell,” she murmured, leaning closer to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His arms tightened around her, solid and warm, and she couldn’t help kissing him again, a little more lingering, a little less chaste.

“You know,” Juggie said between kisses as they drifted closer to the cot, “I didn’t bring you here with nefarious intentions.”

“I know. Bringing me to this illegal cabin in the woods, at night, alone, is one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Is this a build up to more of your ‘detective work,’ Sherlock?”

“Definitely, my dear Watson,” Betty said as he pulled her down next to him on the cot, and tugged her hair out of it’s sleek ponytail to weave his fingers in it as they kissed.  
  
When eventually they were both shirtless again and breathless from making out, Betty pulled back, looking like she was struggling for words.

Jughead figured he would help her out, saying, “Hey Betts, you know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right? I meant it when I said I didn’t bring you here for that.”

She flushed a deeper pink than their kissing had yet made her. “Actually, I was trying to figure out how to ask for something.”

Her words made Jughead feel like he’d been hooked up to the solar panel. “Just name it and it’s yours.”

“I- I’ve never…” she bit her lip again, and Jughead tried to keep _some_ of the blood in his brain from rushing to his dick, but it was a close thing. Seeming to have found a bit of confidence in her pause, Betty squared her shoulders and said, “I want you to touch me, Juggie. Please?”

Mind too full of possibilities, he swallowed. “Show me what you want, Betty, I don’t want to mess this up.”

She rolled away from him suddenly, until her weight lifted from the cot, and in the dark he couldn't see her expression anymore. He worried he hadn’t reacted appropriately, hurt her feelings by not being eager enough, but then she was back in his arms, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

His heart was beating so hard, he assumed she could hear it as loudly as he did, but she kissed him sweetly, soft, if a little shaky herself; a reminder that they were still Betty and Jughead. They had known each other since they were kids. He took a steadying breath and let her guide his hands across her body.

The swells of her breasts were soft, and he felt gooseflesh break out across the delicate skin there as he explored, dipping his head to kiss the hollow of her throat, the space on her chest where her own heart thundered, and then each hardened nipple, gentle as she panted and trembled. Her hands guided him lower, flickering across hipbone to brush her velvety inner thigh, and then, to the wet heat between her legs. It was a shock to discover her like this, as surreal as it was arousing, and he felt his dick throb in his pants. He was near-painfully hard, but with Betty gasping for breath at the graze of his fingertips, he was far happier touching her body than his.

She didn’t seem to know what to direct him to do from there, or was too shy to, but he figured he could work it out. Already his fingers were slick as he drew little circles and caresses, finding the right spot, drawing gasps out of her. He kissed her leisurely, taking his time as he learned what made her shiver and mewl. With a final peck, he slowly drifted down her body, planting kisses across her skin in increments, and waiting each time to see if she’d stop him, but she only breathed his name and hitched her hips in response to his teasing fingers.

Finally he slid down between her legs, hands warm and easy as he spread her wider, and she moaned when he kissed the inside of her thigh, so close, but not close enough for her.

“ _Please_ _,_ Juggie,” she whimpered.

Feeling a bit more confident, he licked into her, as soft and warm as peach cobbler. Her hand came to tangle in his hair as he flicked his tongue. He couldn’t believe he was making her elicit such noises, better than any fantasy. He sucked her clit into his mouth and felt her nails on his scalp, her hips arching up.

No one had ever touched Betty like this, and the sensation built in her until she couldn’t believe there was room for anything else. The knowledge of his _mouth_  on her was almost as good as feeling it, the naughtiness washing over her like a wave she was delighted to drown in, and she spread her legs wider, wanting more. 

“Please, Juggie, I need…” she couldn’t form the words, but he guessed. He shifted slightly, bringing a hand up to caress her until one of his fingers found her entrance, the muscles clenching tight. Sucking her clit again, he pressed just slightly, finger sliding effortlessly into her, and she cried out, her whole body going rigged before she melted, boneless, into the mattress. She twitched like an electric shock had hit her when he licked just a little more, and he grinned. His finger, barely half inside her, slid out with another rush of wetness, and Betty groaned, sweat cooling at her temples, eyes closed in surrender.

When he stretched out beside her again, she pulled him to her without hesitation, kissing him so thoroughly that he thought he might pass out for real, still out of breath from his efforts.

“That was _exactly_  what I wanted,” she said when they finally broke apart to gasp for air.

“That’s so weird,” he said, “me too.”

She was smiling so wide that it hurt her cheeks, but then she glanced down, seeming to recall that she was naked and sated in his bed, and that he was neither.

“I can feel you worrying, Betts,” he told her with the same fondness as ever. “Don’t start. There’s no rush for anything. We both had fun - more fun than I ever expected for tonight. Let’s just sleep for a bit and then I’ll drive you home?”

Betty curled up with her head on his chest and sighed contentedly.  “What a perfect gentleman you are, Watson.”

“I hope you know I’m going to have an uncomfortable reaction to true crime for the rest of my life because of you.”

“Worth it,” she yawned.

  
**FOUR**

Pop's was busy on Friday nights, and this one was no exception. Archie, Veronica, Betty and Jughead had just barely snagged a booth before the place filled up, and the chatter of customers was making normal conversation difficult. Betty had long made up with Veronica, but still insisted on treating her to a double-chocolate milkshake, feeling guilty and affectionate for her friend at the same time. Besides, she felt like celebrating.

It had been a good week for once, with new leads finally surfacing in the case of Jason Blossom, including several details that proved Polly to be in her right mind, held against her will at the Quiet Mercy facility. She was being released this weekend on a court order, and Betty would be there to welcome her home, even if her crazy parents weren’t as thrilled about it. It also helped that Jughead had been there for her every step of the way, supportive and snarky as ever, but new in ways that made her giddy when she caught him staring at her.

She didn’t mind either way when Veronica suggested they abandon their shakes and the noise for a movie at her house. Archie was driving, so they paid their tabs and filed out of the chaos to the parking lot, where Veronica called shotgun and Juggie slanted a private grin at Betty behind her.

It was barely eight o’clock, and Riverdale’s only radio DJ was just getting warmed up. With all the excitement of a puppy, Archie bounced in his seat, cranking the volume on the upbeat rock song. He and Veronica were singing at the top of their lungs by the time they had pulled onto the highway.

Squished together in Archie’s tiny backseat, Betty and Jughead were quieter, content to let their friends’ musical talent shine. Betty was smiling, but Juggie saw an impish look cross her face before he felt her hand on his thigh. Neither of them had mentioned their developing new relationship to their best friends yet, but if Betty wanted to play chicken, he wasn’t about to stop her. Smirking, Jug pretended to see something interesting out his window, and at the same time, sneaked his hand under her skirt.

He could feel Betty’s glared even as he looked away, her dawning realization of how unfair this game inherently was, even though she started it. But Jughead wasn’t finished making his counter-move. He couldn’t help but turn slightly back to watch from the corner of his eye as her face changed, feeling his fingers slip beneath her underwear to find her already wet. He raised an eyebrow at her, and Betty shrugged, blushing. He looked away again to cover his own reaction, a mix of smugness and arousal. His jeans were suddenly much too tight.

It was a heady feelings, dipping his fingers lower and surreptitiously watching her try to keep a straight face. If either Archie or Veronica happened to look back, there would be no question as to what was happening, but the two kept singing, buoyed by sugar and pop music. Meanwhile, Jughead tortured Betty behind their backs, leaving her silently gasping for breath until, surprising them both, she shuddered and held his wrist still, coming around his finger. When she sagged back against the seat, releasing his wrist, he withdrew his hand.

Spent, Betty could only look over at him, not sure if she wanted to tease or thank him, but he stared straight back at her and deliberately sucked his wet finger into his mouth, as if savoring the taste. She had to shut her eyes for a moment, her body confusingly needy even as it pulsed in aftershocks.

“Fuck you,” she mouth at him.

He looked steadily back at her, a smile teasing at his lips, and mouthed back, “Okay.”

 

 

 **THE FIRST TIME**  

They were too wound up to be great actors by then, but it was easy for Betty to fake a call from Polly, and for Jughead, who had been working with her on the case for weeks, to offer his “help.”

Veronica pouted, but after their recent fight she didn’t push the issue. Archie didn’t even notice the strain in Betty’s voice as she agreed to whatever make-up plans Veronica was suggesting. He dropped his friends off at Betty’s house, and sped off to take Ronnie home, leaving no one around to witness as Jughead pressed Betty against a tree for a searing kiss.

“Juggie,” she said, laughing and pushing him back, “We can go inside. My parents left to pick up Polly, they won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

He still insisted on meeting her upstairs, too paranoid of getting caught. He couldn’t risk it, not after the way Betty had looked at him in the car.

She was opening the window by the time he reached the top of the ladder.

“You know, keeping this ladder here is really unsafe, anybody could just climb into your window.”

“Hi, Anybody,” she teased. “I’m home alone on a Friday night, what are you gonna do about it?”

He vaulted himself over the sill, tripping in his haste, and had barely stood up by the time she was undressing him. He laughed, halting her progress for kisses until, he, too, was eagerly kicking off his jeans and reaching to unclasp her bra.

Seeing Jughead naked was still a little awkward for Betty, unsure if she was supposed to look at him, unsure if she could touch him. But his fond smirk was the same, and when she slid her hand around his dick, he dropped his head to her shoulder, as if her light touch was almost too much for him.

“We’re out of balance, Jug. I owe you,” she joked.

“Please don’t keep score of our orgasms, your anatomy has a distinct advantage. Also I enjoy touching you too much to wait for you to catch up. Deal with it.”

She laughed, and then led him to her bed, smiling nervously again and looking off to the side.

“So I’m on the pill,” she said.

“Great-” he started.

“But if you wanted to use a condom, we could do that too. Safety first, right?”

He huffed a laugh and leaned down to kiss her. “Hey Betts. We can do whatever you want, but don’t forget this is my first time too. Be gentle with me?”

Nerves gave way to a predatory sparkle in her eyes, and a new wave of heat flushed through him. “Or don’t. I’m equally fine with that.”

Dragging him back to lay fully on the bed, she pressed a bruising kiss to his mouth, but held his wrists so he couldn’t touch her. He whined in his throat, his cock pressed to her thigh, and she released him. Smiling wickedly, she climbed over him, blonde hair mussed perfectly, the look of challenge in her eyes hotter than anything he’d ever seen.

‘Fuck, Betty.”

“That’s the idea, Juggie.” And she sank down onto him without another moment of hesitation. Jug swore colorfully, fingers digging into her hips.

As wet and ready as she already was, it didn’t hurt like she had thought it might. She only had to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation of being so full, new and just a bit weird, before he groaned and begged her to move. Lifting her hips up and down created new angles that struck sparks within her, and she picked up the rhythm on instinct, the fullness suddenly perfect as it satisfied the ache at her core. Jug slid a hand up her side to cup her breast, and the twinge as he thumbed her nipple had her clenching around him.

“Shit, Betty, you’re gonna kill me,” he mumbled, and she gasped as his hand slid between them to rub her clit. A deeper sensation built within her, tugging at her whole body with each thrust, and when she looked down into Juggie’s amazed, adoring face,  the black hole of pleasure collapsed around her, taking her over the edge with it.

He helped her slide over to lay on her back, dick still hard as it slid out of her, and she whined.

“Shh, I’m not done with you yet,” he said, aiming to kiss her and missing half of her mouth, making them both laugh. He lifted Betty's hips to shove a pillow beneath, and lined himself up. It was bliss to slid back into her, to be this close to her again, and she moaned, tilting her hips to meet his. Jug knew it wouldn’t take him long now, picking up speed as she cried out, and in moments, his name on her lips and her heat tightening around him sent him over the edge.

They lay together for a long moment after, sweaty limbs tangled, breath mingling.

“Wow,” they both said, almost at the same moment.

Jughead leaned over to press a tender kiss to her swollen lips. “Jinx."

With a gasp, she pulled away.

“Juggie, _the receipt!_ ”

Groaning, he flopped back on the bed, listening as Betty launching into another stroke of inspiration.

“Okay, Colombo, hand me my pants and let’s go talk to the Sheriff.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my best friend, who dragged me into CW teen drama hell, where I live now. <3
> 
> Let me know what you think! I am a slave to validation.


End file.
